


Azkaban Break

by vanimia



Series: Azkaban Break [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot of paperworks, Angst, Badass Mundungus, Badass Rita, Beware the Dementors, Escaped convicts, F/M, Harry being is cute self, Inspired by Prison Break, Morally Grey Regulus Black, Morally Grey Severus Snape, Morally Grey Sirius Black, Not at first though, Regulus is so smart, Severus would rather be elsewhere, Sirius and Regulus have a lot to say to one another, They're bad with words, Translation, Welcome to Azkaban, at least when it's about the other, obviously...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanimia/pseuds/vanimia
Summary: A man convicted wrongfully, a brother who would stop at nothing to free him, remind you of something?Or Regulus rescuing Sirius.
Relationships: Regulus Black & Severus Snape, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin
Series: Azkaban Break [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111721
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Azkaban Break](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/728178) by colibri vert. 



> Before reading this, know that in this story Sirius had a trial before going to Azkaban prison. Enjoy!
> 
> English is not my first language! This is a translation from Azkaban Break by colibri vert, a french writer. She allowed this translation.
> 
> Disclaimers: I don’t own Harry Potter and the story belongs to colibri vert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Why weren't you, who you swore that you would be?_  
>  I have questions, I got questions haunting me
> 
> —I Have Questions, Camila Cabello—

Severus Snape wasn’t the kind of person who let himself be daunted. To be in close contact with the Dark Lord required strong nerves. And yet, he was swayed by the awful aura of the place. Looking away from the dark mass of Azkaban which outlined against the dark sky, he turned his attention to the wizards huddling together on the wooden benches of the shuttle connecting the island to the mainland. Nobody seemed particularly pleased to be here. An old witch with a wrinkled face was gripping her big tote bag as if to reassure herself. A sinister man with shifty eyes clenched his teeth, betraying his anxiety. Another was endeavouring to laugh to his companion’s tense jokes.

Severus held back a sigh. Why on earth was he here? A mere letter, and he dropped everything without a thought to travel to this nightmarish island on a worm-eaten boat steered by a gloomy ferryman. 

Though, it wasn’t as if he could have done anything else. The letter was too categorical to ignore.

He was just finishing getting ready for the lesson of the next day when an owl had, unusually, barged in through the fireplace of his office. Hogwarts’ mail usually came in the Common Room, and only Dumbledore received his letters in his quarters. Right away, he had known the news weren’t good. He had untied the letter from the owl’s leg and sitten on his chair while the owl ate the biscuits he disregarded next to a bunch of marked examination papers.

_ Severus, _

_ I can’t ignore what is happening anymore. Because you proved I could trust you, I’m asking you, I’m begging you not to overlook the contempt of this letter when it reaches you. At this moment, in all likelihood, I’ll be incarcerated at Azkaban prison. Visits are allowed once a week on Saturday. Meet me there. Ask for Finnigan Fox. I’m counting on you Severus. _

_ R.A.B _

“He’s counting on me…,” he thought. Only Dumbledore would tell him something like this. Only Dumbledore and  _ him _ !

What have you done, Regulus?

Couldn’t he stay in his hiding-place, waiting for the Minister to catch the last remaining Death Eaters? Why in hell had he gone to Azkaban?

Be that as it may, Severus had taken the shuttle to the prison the next Saturday.

He had to undergo a thorough search before boarding the ridiculous boat on a sea too rough for his liking. For this, Regulus was going to pay, providing he really was in Azkaban in the first place and, if it was true, that he was still alive.

This last thought made him sink deep into anger. How could Regulus get himself caught? It wasn’t a good thing to be a repentant Death Eater in Azkaban.  _ He  _ was the one who had made sure nobody would get hold of him and now he was putting his own life at risk! And why? Under which charges had he been locked up?

The island was near now. Severus was divided between the relief of being able to draw alongside still alive and the angst this sinister and dark mass was stirring up inside him.

“When we'll arrive, you’ll undergo another search before being taken to the prison itself,” the ferryman announced with a grating voice. “The ferry will leave in one hour.”

One hour. That was the only thing Azkaban’s prisoners could hope for. One hour once a week to see friendly faces. Unless they were in the High Security building, of course. Those never went outside, never saw anybody, fated to a slow degeneration and an inescapable death. He was glad Regulus had at least escaped that.

In some corner of his mind Severus remembered that without Dumbledore he’d have been locked up within those very walls at the mercy of the Dementors. He had a better understanding of the debt he had towards the old wizard now that he could actually feel the darkness of the place seep in, cold and ominous.

The boat hit the wooden salt bleach and decrepit landing stage. Two guards, as sinister as the prison itself, were waiting for today’s visitors in their midnight blue uniform robes. Severus wondered how these men could bear working here.

The guards searched them carefully, passing their wands over them again and again to detect any magical objects or dissimulation spells. Severus took part in the exercise with a reluctance the men overlooked.

The visitors climbed up a lane with metal railings leading straight to the citadel. It was built with dark stones and divided into two distinct buildings; one, built on a rocky spur, was overhanging the other. Where the first was pierced with a lot of windows, the second was completely blind to the outside world. The whole thing was surrounded with wards so powerful Severus’s hairs on his neck and arms stood up when he passed through them. “Apparition forbidden,” he thought. 

The prison was absolutely secure. Nobody had ever escaped. The heavy iron doors opened onto a dark hall. A staff member was sitting at a table to the right of the entrance. Severus went to the end of the waiting file growing in front of him, glancing towards the numerous guards who were watching them suspiciously, as if the entire world was composed of criminals.

“Perhaps they’re not wrong,” Severus thought with his usual pessimism. It was true he didn’t have a clear conscience, and Dumbledore’s forgiveness didn’t redeem himself in his own eyes.

“Yes?” the staff member sitting at the table said tersely when his turn came at last.

“Finnigan Fox,” Severus asked. The staff member checked his register, took a strange horn-like tool and muttered a number inside.

“Next!”

A bit confused, Severus moved aside. A guard waved for him to come closer and together they left the hall down a bare, narrow and badly lit hallway ending in a door. The guard opened it and gestured for him to enter.

“Go have a seat. The prisoner will join you in a moment.”

The room was vast. On the back wall, the filthy pane of the windows did not allow a lot of light to pass through. Here, there were some tables and chairs. One was already taken by the small wrinkled witch he had travelled with. She was talking with a grim-looking middle-aged man. "Her son,” Severus thought. He understood by the stifling silence that there was a silence spell on each table. At least they gave a bit of privacy. A bit only. A row of duly armed guards was keeping an eye on them, ready to react at the first suspicious move.

Severus chose a table in a corner and sat down. He hoped to make this quick. He just wanted to hear what Regulus had to say and return to his comfortable office away from this baneful island. A second door opened in the back of the room and Severus looked up to see the newcomers.

A young man entered the room, handcuffed and escorted by two squared-shoulders guards.

Severus scrutinised the man sitting in the chair in front of him; his hair had been cut short and lightened but he had no trouble recognising the youthful features of Regulus. 

He waited for the guard to leave before exploding. “What have you done? Couldn’t you stay quietly hidden!”

Regulus gave him a small smile. “I burgled Gringotts…”

“You did what?!”

“Well, I tried… I got caught obviously, these damned Goblins have an outstanding security system!”

“You’re mad…!” Severus muttered. “Why have you done that!”

“You don’t have a clue?”

There wasn’t any joke in his tone and the sparkle in his grey eyes was enough to convince Severus that it was serious.

“Explain.”

“Sirius.”

That name was enough to make Severus cringe a little harder. He snorted while his anger stepped up a notch. So, Regulus was risking his life for the moron he called a brother?! What was he going to do anyway? Sneak into the high-security prison cell he was imprisoned in to cheer him up?

“I don’t understand,” he said coldly.

Regulus leaned forward and their eyes met. “I’m going to get him out there,” he declared.

“You’re going to— it’s sheer madness!” Severus shouted. “He was sentenced for life! He won’t get outside the High Security wing!”

“He’s innocent.”

“Mmpff…”

_ Innocent _ .

“He confessed Pettigrew’s murder!” Severus protested. “Under the Truth Serum, he confessed associating himself with You-Know-Who, he confessed the Potters’ murder!”

“I don’t buy it for a minute.”

“We've all heard it at the trial!”

“I don’t care what he said at the trial. He didn’t kill Pettigrew. He would never have slaughtered those muggles. Not him. And he would never have betrayed James.”

Regulus’s face darkened once again. Severus knew he wouldn’t succeed in talking some sense into him. Regulus was stubborn. “Just like his brother,” Severus thought. Except he wasn’t a hothead. He wasn’t used to those kinds of crazy things from him. But, after all, he—

“What proof do you have…?” Severus asked quietly.

“None. No direct evidence, at least. But I know Pettigrew is still alive.”

“How?”

Regulus just smiled. A dark smile. Severus felt uncomfortable. Regulus had his own darkness, he knew that. He wouldn’t have done everything he did otherwise.

“If you’re sure he’s innocent, why didn’t you turn to someone competent? Dumbledore?”

“Dumbledore is convinced of Sirius’s guilt. Like everyone else.”

“Because he is!” Severus protested.

“Even Lupin has given up on him!” Regulus continued, not listening. “I am the only one who can get him out of here.”

There was a silence, a deafening one. Severus recalled Black’s trial; how, under the Truth Serum, he had confessed everything despite the fact that Lupin and Dumbledore, among others, still desperately wanted to believe him innocent. And yet, it had shocked him. Not that Sirius Black had been able to shamelessly slaughter a dozen innocent people. Severus thought that he wouldn’t hesitate for a second to wipe out anybody getting in his way when he had his mind fixed on something. Sirius never had any qualms.  _ Never _ . But Black betraying James Potter… that sounded off. He had dealt enough with the two of them at Hogwarts to understand the strength of the bond they had shared.

“You’re going to break out…?” He muttered uncomfortably, even knowing about the silence spells. “And you’re going to take your brother with you…?”

Regulus nodded.

“That’s madness…” Severus said. “Nobody ever gotten out of here without authorization.”

“We’ll be the first then.”

“And me? Where do I come in all of this?”

“I need to know you’re with us, outside, to ensure our escape.”

“Why me?”

“You saved my life once already.”

“And see what you’ve done with it…” Severus snorted.

“You know it’d be detrimental if I disappeared forever.”

Severus’s hands clenched on his robes, knowing what Regulus was referring to. Despite saying that he trusted him, the young man didn’t trust him enough to reveal some secrets he only caught a glimpse of. He was dying to know why Regulus had betrayed Voldemort. What could be so important he had to disappear? What did Regulus found out to scare the Dark Lord? Even the announcement of the prophecy hadn’t worried him so much.

“If it is so important for you not to disappear,” Severus said, deadpan, “perhaps it wasn’t the wisest idea to get yourself locked up here! How long have you been in here anyway?”

“Five days.”

“And how have you been doing?”

“Alright. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Severus looked at the young man with a hint of concern he wasn’t able to conceal.

The man was determined, and he knew, deep inside, that he was wrong to let himself be deceived by the apparent fragility of his juvenile features. Regulus wasn’t fragile. He was strong and hardened. Just like his brother.

Severus didn’t want to think of Sirius. He didn’t want his hatred to cloud his opinion of Regulus, not now that he was in deep trouble.

“Not only about your life here…” he muttered. “Even if you have to hang out with scum, even if those walls are ominous… I know you can deal with that. No, I’m talking about the Death Eaters… You think you can trick them by changing your hair colour? Besides, what have you done to it?”

“A muggle thing. And I won’t spend time with any Death Eaters. They all are in the High Security wing.”

“Every one of them? Are you sur?”

“The others are nothing I can’t handle!”

“But what if they recognise you…? You’re not safe here! Even the guards won’t do anything to help if they find out! You know it, don’t you?”

Regulus waved the argument away.

“And your mark?” Severus muttered, his voice shaking slightly. “How will you hide it?”

“It’s invisible, don’t worry.”

“Invisible? How have you done it? Magic doesn’t last long in Azkaban!”

“I didn’t use any magic. I told you, don’t worry about it.”

Severus sighed. “It’s too late for that anyway…” He pointed out. “So, how long is your sentence?”

“Ten years.”

“Salazar…”

“I’ll be out of here soon enough. Sirius too. Do you know what the life expectancy is in the High Security wing? Less than two years! And he’s been in there for nine months already…”

“Yes, exactly!” Severus growled, exasperated. “In nine months he had had plenty of time to lose his mind! You know what the Dementors do, don’t you? You really think he got to keep his sanity? How can you be sure he will be the same?!”

Regulus looked bleak and his face had blanked, stubborn as he was. “I know he didn’t lose his mind. He’s strong… Nine months are not enough to break him!”

Severus snorted once more, disdainful. Regulus hit the table with his hand.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” He insinuated, sarcastic. “You know how he is,  _ you _ more than anyone else! He’s not a sheep who could easily be led to the slaughterhouse! He’s suited for survival.”

Severus judiciously chose not to carry on this path. “And how are you going to do it? To get him out of the High Security wing? To leave this island?”

“That’s my problem.”

“There’s a lot of Dementors out there!” Severus objected. “How will you go unnoticed? They’ll charge you as soon as you are in their operational area. What are you going to do without a wand?”

“They won’t see me.”

Severus frowned, puzzled. He longed to know what he had planned. Their eyes met, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pass through his mental walls. Regulus smiled.

“My thoughts are mine to keep.”

“Indeed, I hope so, knowing what you’re trying to do…”

He always had been astounded at how easily Regulus could hide his thoughts. He doubted even Voldemort had ever passed through his occlumency walls. “If he had known who Regulus was deep inside, he would immediately have shot him down,” he thought.

Perhaps Regulus had a chance after all?

“Well? What do I have to do?”

“You come to see me each week and you brew Sirius and me a potion to alter our appearance. Buy us good wands and get ready.”

“Is that all?” Severus asked, grinding his teeth.

“For now, what’s left is my own business.”

“Very well.”

Regulus hesitated one moment before taking Severus’s hand in his own. Severus twitched. Nobody ever touched him anymore, not even Dumbledore.

“I trust you, Severus. Do not fail me.”

Embarrassed, Severus quickly nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't take the time to reread this one. Hope it's not too messy ^^'
> 
> _Without the light  
>  Oh the darkness comes  
> Hold through the night  
> The shadows will run_
> 
> —Change on the rise, Avi Kaplan—

28, and Mundungus Fletcher had already been locked up three times in Azkaban.

The very first time, he was 18 and had been arrested for robbery. Three years later, he repeated the whole thing after a hold-up that had gotten out of hand and now, he just got a two-years sentence for fencing muggles' stolen goods.

Mundungus had learnt to handle life in jail. He knew how to gain the favour of the guards, how to avoid the most dangerous inmates and most importantly, how to overlook the Dementors that were taking over the humans at night in the corridors.

Overcoming the sharp chill storming your body and threatening to overwhelm you, to drive you crazy. And the thoughts, each more gruesome than the next, assaulting your very mind. _That_ was the hardest part.

He had seen many cocky inmates, some brawlers even, close themselves off after a few nights around those awful things, while frail-like ones endured the psychological strain better.

It rather seemed, to Mundungus, that his young cellmate belonged to the latter.

He found Finnigan Fox intriguing. First of all because he didn't have the expression he usually saw in the eyes of the new inmates. Second, because he had done surprisingly well during his first night with the Dementors; he hadn't curled up in a ball, sobbing, overcomed by indescribable nightmares, like he had thought he would the first time they shared their cell. No. Finnigan Fox had simply got up on his bed, languidly stretched, as if he'd just woken up after a night in a comfy bed rather than in the grim prison of Azkaban, before nodding back to him.

Their cohabitation would surely be an interesting one.

But for now, Mundungus didn't really know where to start with him and his few attempts at starting a conversation had been ignored. The only thing he really knew about him was that he'd been arrested for robbery.

He might require a bit of time to get better acquainted.

The door of their cell closed with a loud bang and Mundungus rose from his bed. Finnigan Fox moved to his own bunk – below Mundungus's – without a word while the guard who escorted him walked away.

"Who was it?" Fletcher asked, determined to break the infuriating silence of his cellmate. "The one who paid you a visit? A relative of yours?"

"No."

"Wife, maybe?"

"Friend."

"Ah… that must be a good friend for him to come and see you in this hellhole!"

Young Finnigan smiled softly. Mundungus collapsed on his bed and looked at him shamelessly. Might as well ask what was really of interest to him – he didn't like to share his day-to-day life with a stranger. Especially in prison.

"A mischievous mate of yours?" He suggested.

Finnigan laughed heartily. It was strange to hear this sound, in this place.

"If only he could hear you… No. He gave me an earful for what I've done."

"And what have you done exactly?"

"I tried to break into Gringotts."

Mundungus gawked at him.

"Are you completely stupid?"

"I must be."

"You must have been a bit on edge to do that!"

Finnigan didn't answer. He fell backwards and laid on his bed. Mundungus didn't insist further. For a change, he had succeeded in exchanging more than two words with him. He didn't want to push too hard, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with Finnigan. The boy seemed too smart to have done something as foolish as trying to attack Gringotts' Goblins…

**.**

The lights died out one by one, plunging the cells into darkness. Soon, the Dementors would make their first patrol of the night.

Lying on his bed, Regulus reviewed his day. The fact that Severus had answered his call was a big relief. At least, he had an ally on the outside! Getting out was one thing, but once there, they'd have to escape Aurors and find a safeplace. So long as Sirius was able to follow him.

Severus's last comment troubled him. He might have assured him that Sirius was strong enough to endure nine months of imprisonment unscathed in the High Security wing, but in fact he wasn't so sure. After all, the Sirius who had been locked up had also been quite shaken by his best friend's loss. And Regulus had no idea of his brother's potential to resist the Dementors.

What if Severus was right? What if Sirius wasn't able to follow him?

His plans were based on the certainty that Sirius was brave enough to partake his escape. What would he do if he wasn't? Regulus sighed softly. He would know when he'd see Sirius. And for that, he had to strictly follow his plan.

Pensively, he ran his hand along his right arm, where the first aspects of his evasion stood.

**.**

Azkaban's convicts were allowed to bathe once a week, on Sunday morning. Before getting to the refectory, every detainee had to go there in groups of ten, escorted by guards. Unworried, Finnigan followed his cellmate without a word. Mundungus wasn't surprised about his behaviour. How could the man know that his future reputation was to be decided within these few minutes?

In the corner of his eye, Mundungus saw Floyd grin, his eyes fixed on the new guy. This was bad. But it was up to him to take actions, to prevent any confrontation. He quickly weighed the pros and the cons. If he'd misjudged his cellmate, he'd surely suffer from a bad move. He glanced at Finnigan's emotionless face behind him.

So young. Early 20s, at most.

However, he hadn't flinch when the Dementors had passed by the cell.

Mundungus slowed down, so that they collided gently. The sudden tension he felt from Finnigan told him he was right to think that his poker face was just an act; the man was on guard.

"Very well," he thought, suddenly sure of what he was going to do.

"See this guy, the one with the beard…?" He whispered to Finnigan who looked up and nodded. "You better not shower in front of him."

If the man had been surprised by his words, he didn't betray it. He settled for another nod. Mundungus smiled softly.

"Stay with me," he added, 'I'll make sure we're not in the same group as him…"

Finnigan on his heels, Mundungus stopped in front of a guard while the others were heading towards the showers.

"My new cellmate," he said, pointing at Regulus, "I'd prefer that he doesn't make the acquaintance with some people."

The guard seemed to hesitate.

"I won't get involve in your mess, Dung… "

"I know you're neutral. Give us just two minutes… To talk about the weather or something like that, you know… ! How's the weather, by the way?"

"Same as yesterday, Dung… The same as always on this damned island. But on the mainland, it's a nice day."

"Bloody hell… Even the sun flees in front of the Dementors…"

"Get moving, Fletcher…"

"Yeah, thanks, boss…"

Grasping Finnigan's elbow, he dragged him into a locker room.

"It's okay, we can go in. He's in the other one! I'm sure he's livid!" He chuckled.

"You helped me. Why?"

The straightforward question caught him off guard. He expected him to ask about his possible assailant, Ademius Floyd. He scratched his head, considering the question for a moment. What to tell him? That he had seen an opportunity of getting closer to him in order to satisfy his curiosity?

"We're going to share a cell for quite some time," he said, "It'd nice if we got along, right?"

"I suppose… Thanks."

Mundungus started to undress, leaving his prison uniform on one of the benches – the only furniture put at the disposal of the detainees in the dressing room. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Finnigan did the same.

"Just take it off," he smiled. "There are no rapists in this room, you know!"

Finnigan smiled slightly back before letting his uniform slip off his shoulders, unveiling the drawings which were covering every inch of skin.

"Whoa!" Mundungus cried, eyes wide. "That's impressive! There is a lot of tattoos here, most in the High Security wing, but I think you dethrone every single one of them!"

Finnigan finished undressing and left his things on the bench, near Fletcher's who stepped forward to have a closer look at Finnigan's ink.

"That's not a magical tattoo," he noted, sceptical.

"No, you're right. It's Muggle."

"You let a Muggle tattoo you? A Half-Blood?" Mundungus pressed.

"Why? Have you something against Muggles?"

"No. I'm doing a lot of business with them. It's just that…" He frowned, trying to clear his thoughts. _Finnigan_ and _Muggle_ sounded strange put together.

"You look nothing like a Muggle!" He said finally. "In fact, I'd even bet you're a Pureblood!"

"Ah?" Finnigan said, keeping a blank face. "And what makes you so sure about that?"

"The way you move! Even if you're trying to hide it, you're behaving just like a toff! Guys with a traditional upbringing, it shows."

"If you say so… But my tattoo is a Muggle one."

"Right…" Mundungus scratched his neck, a bit puzzled. "Yet, I can't imagine Purebloods fiddling with Muggles… !"

"Not all the Purebloods are supporters of V… You-Know-Who… "

"Are you?"

"I'm what?"

"A Pureblood!"

"Is that important?"

"No," Mundungus admitted. "I guess not. Here, we're all in the same boat, anyway. And you're right. All Purebloods aren't Death Eaters…"

Doubtful for a moment, Mundungus eyed his cellmate's left arm. With relief, he found no Dark Mark. In its place, a big green dragon was wrapping its scales over a knight in armour.

Finnigan followed his gaze on his arm with a blank look, but he didn't answer the embarrassed smile Mundungus gave him.

**.**

Hot water made Regulus breath a sigh of relief. It was good to be able to shower properly once more after five days doing it over the little sink of the cell. Beside him, Mundungus was rubbing himself energetically with soap.

Regulus shot a quick glance at the other detainees. If some of them eyed him with curiosity, no eyes were lingering on his left arm suspiciously. Apparently, only Fletcher had wondered what his tattoo could hide.

He fought the urge to put his hand on his forearm. After all, the Muggle tattooist who'd modified his Mark had done an excellent job while engraving the ink on his pre-existing tattoo.

Regulus was sure no form of magic could erase it. The easiest way had been to draw over it, using the existing lines to turn the snake into a dragon and the skull into a knight with an iron helmet. And to make it stand out as much as possible, as any attempt to hide it would be considered suspicious.

But why stop with the tattoo on his forearm when it was just part of the huge drawing that took shape on his torso, back and shoulders?

Regulus took the soap his comrade was holding out. He'd spend the first five days assessing him. Regulus was naturally suspicious. And those last years had done nothing to ease this character trait. After all, you couldn't survive a death sentence from Voldemort without being a bit paranoid. Plus, prison wasn't the best place to blindly start trusting people.

Regulus knew he wouldn't be able to hide whatever he was doing from the man with whom he was going to share his day-to-day life with from now on. Particularly because Fletcher, being as distrustful as he was, was asking himself a lot of questions about him already.

"He took my side earlier on," thought Regulus, "and he doesn't seem to be pro-Death Eaters… "

But he needed more than that; he needed certainty.

It was time to make his first step concerning his cellmate. And see where it would lead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I loved, and I loved and I lost you_
> 
> _And it hurts like hell_
> 
> _Yeah, it hurts like hell_
> 
> _I don't want them to know the secrets_
> 
> _I don't want them to know the way I loved you_
> 
> _I don't think they'd understand it_
> 
> _No._
> 
> —Hurts like hell, Fleurie—

“That guy… what’s his name?”

Mundungus looked up from his lunch tray, gazing at Finnigan questioningly.

“The bearded man from the showers,” Finnigan explained, seeing his evident lack of understanding. 

“Ademius Floyd; a real creep. Sentenced for abuse against a Muggle, a sixteen-year-old boy. It’s his speciality.”

“I’m not a Muggle.”

“But you’re young. Believe me, you’d better avoid him.”

Finnigan smiled slightly and Mundungus leaned a little towards him. 

“See the reaction of the guard earlier on? They don’t care what’s happening between us. There isn’t anyone blinder than a guard. You could get beaten up before their eyes, they’d take so long to act on it that your face would already be a mess by then. And I’m not even talking about what happens when one convict chooses to get off, if you know what I mean.” He shrugged, fatalistic. “It’s understandable,” he said, “working in a slammer like this, it’s not nothing you know… It makes you wonder what they’ve done to earn that kind of job!”

Finnigan took a sip of his tasteless coffee, eyes working on the guards chatting in front of the refectory door.

“They take action only when it’s getting bad,” Fletcher said. “Or when they have an interest in doing so… “

“They can be bought?”

“Let’s just say we can come to an arrangement… If you don’t make waves, if your request is reasonable, and if you have enough money… “

“And if I was asking to be put in a certain work team… would I have any luck…?”

Mundungus wiped his mouth with his cuff.

“Which one are we talking about?” He asked, lowering his voice.

“I’d like to make myself useful. It can’t be worse than going in circles inside our cell…”

“Yeah… You can’t go for anything though. There are some preferential treatments. If you ask for the kitchens, or outside maintenance, you’ll get nothing. There are a lot of people here who want to go outside to see the sky—well, a grey one, but the real sky nonetheless—or a blade of grass. The guards favour the most influential, or the oldest ones. The same can be said about the kitchens, because of the extra trade…” 

“And the cleaning?”

Fletcher looked up at his cellmate, not understanding.

“I’ll settle for a broom,” Finnigan said.

“You’re serious about this!” Mundungus cried. “You? Cleaning up others’ mess?!”

Finnigan shrugged.

“Not a good idea,” Fletcher grumbled. “If you start with that, you’ll have a hard time… And nothing will stop people like Floyd! In the slammer, you have to act like big shots if you want some peace, not housemaids!”

“So,” Finnigan carried on, as if he hadn’t heard his latest arguments, “if I want to be part of the cleaning team, it wouldn’t be a problem…?”

“Eh… No, I don’t think so… But you’re sure that’s what you want?!”

“Pretty sure,” Finnigan smiled.

And Mundungus found this smile worrying.

**.**

Severus Snape woke up in a foul mood.

Since his return from Azkaban last night, he was continuously cursing Regulus and his recklessness, at the point where it was now also invading his dreams where he didn’t bother sugarcoating it to give him a piece of his mind. Their short meeting had frustrated him more than anything else. He really didn’t understand how Regulus was going to reach the High Security wing, escape the Dementors’ detection, get Sirius out of his cell and drag him out of the prison… let alone how he planned to leave the island! The obstacles were so big, so insurmountable…!

Severus pulled the covers off and put his old slippers on. He had his usual stack of papers to grade, but he wouldn’t touch it before having eaten a decent breakfast. Sometimes, he felt regrets at being as thorough as he was in his job… Particularly when he saw what those dunderhead students were writing down in their inane homeworks!

Sighing, he rose and went to the bathroom. While the bathtub was filling up, he stared at himself in the mirror.

_Regulus trusts you._

Maybe that’s what was troubling and angering him the most. He wasn’t someone to be trusted! He had betrayed every one of those who thought the contrary… Dumbledore, his Death-Eater friends, the Dark Lord himself… 

Would he betray Regulus?

He looked away from his pallid face, his greasy hair, his dull gaze. How could Regulus not see him as he really was? Why wasn’t he behaving like an arrogant moron with a deep feeling of superiority like his brother did?!

He turned off the taps and removed his nightshirt. Shivering, he got into the lukewarm water. He could hardly stand warmth. He splashed his face, but that didn’t help him clear his mind. He thought about Regulus still. Regulus and his beliefs, Regulus and his braveness, Regulus and his determination… 

It was just like this day when he had spared him… 

Back then, when he arrived, the Dark Lord was already furious. Lucius Malfoy had been carefully standing next to him at the back. Severus had understood right away that something terrible was about to happen. He thought it had something to do with the Prophecy, the one he reported two months ago. Yet, it had not been about that. The Dark Lord had been after a dissident: Regulus Black.

Strangely enough, it hadn’t surprised Severus. Regulus had never seemed sincere in his convictions despite his regular participation in the meetings. No, Regulus had seemed driven by something else. Severus had never thought to ask what.

The unanswered question had arisen though, when Voldemort had ordered them to get rid of him. Severus had preferred not to push it. He had promptly joined Regulus’s pursuers and had found him just as he was leaving the Black mansion in haste. Wands out, they had stared at each other for a long time.

And Severus hadn’t been able to do it. Not like that. He wanted to understand before.

His curious nature had saved Regulus this day, not his kindness. Never his kindness. He had no reason to trust him.

Severus quickly washed off the shampoo and got out of the bathtub.

**.**

Regulus stared at the prisoners conversing, going from a cell to another, walking together in the hallways. It was the thirty-minute break of the morning. The guards had retreated to the other side of the grid, wands within reach. Regulus noticed that they weren’t really paying attention to them. As Mundungus had said: they weren’t going to intervene if there was an altercation.

It was convenient, considering the way things were going to turn out.

Drying off after his shower, earlier, he had stared carefully at the drawings on his right arm; the first part of his plan.

He would have to quickly find the equivalent of a cauldron.

Of course, it was going to be far from easy. He hadn’t enough seniority to obtain the little arrangements Mundungus had talked about. Besides, it would raise questions. It wasn’t wise to draw attention to himself at this point. That left him with the cleaning service. If he could move through other areas in the prison, he would surely find what he was searching for.

“Hey, fish,” a voice whispered near him, “settling in?”

Regulus watched the newcomer out of the corner of his eye; Ademius Floyd. Obviously. Mundungus had spared him the first encounter, but he couldn’t have put off the inevitable. He didn’t like the way this guy was looking at him, as if he was some special meat displayed in the butcher’s shop.

He had met worse.

“Cat got your tongue?” Floyd urged on. “It would be a pity, a pretty guy like you losing such a vital organ...! 

He licked his lips suggestively.

Regulus thought him ridiculous.

“My tongue’s got better things to do than answering you.”

Floyd’s eyes darkened dangerously and his lips curled into a cold grin.

“You’ve got guts, brat… I like it!”

“Anyone ever told you are preposterous?”

Floyd’s hand crashed down on him before he could dodge. The prisoner grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and pulled him closer, his face nearly touching his.

“You should be careful, brat… I’ve killed for less…”

The men gazed at each other for a long time. Then, Floyd roughly pressed his lips on his before releasing him.

“I’ll see you soon, darling!”

**.**

Mundungus witnessed the whole thing without knowing what to do. He would have intervened and sided with Fox, but he cared for his tranquillity. After three incarcerations, he’d learnt that it was better to steer clear of those kinds of people. So he mimicked the guards and laid low.

But he felt bad about the kid.

He breathed more freely when he saw Floyd walking away.

He joined Finnigan after a few moments. The kid didn’t seem troubled in the least by what just happened.

“He has his eyes on you…” He said darkly.

“Indeed."

“We got lucky this morning. It won’t always be like that. You should think about ways to defend yourself. Unless… there’s something in it for you obviously…” He added carefully.

“He’s not really my type,” Regulus said. “Too hairy.” 

Mundungus smiled, but it quickly faded away. “He’s dangerous, Finnigan. Very much so. If he corners you, he won't have any difficulty to… Have you seen him?”

“Build isn’t everything.”

Mundungus took him by the arm and dragged him in their cell.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he mumbled, “but for your own sake, I hope magic isn’t involved… “

“Not even wandless magic…?” Finnigan suggested, a mischievous smile on his face.

Suddenly, Fletcher found him really infuriating. “Don’t be a fool! Even if you’re really able to use wandless magic, it’s not recommended!”

“And what gave you the impression that I would be able to do so?" Finnigan asked innocently.

“Your confidence, you bloody fool! You’re acting as if you still had your privileges from before! As if you still had your wand and your magic! Here, we’re not wizards anymore! Try to cast just one spell and you’ll be thrown in High Security where the Dementors will suck out every drop of your soul!”

Finnigan’s lack of responsiveness exasperated Mundungus even more. Why couldn’t that idiot see that he was trying to help him avoid trouble!

“Good!” He raved. “Do whatever you want! I warned you!”

He climbed into his bed, got a magazine and made sure to royally ignore his cellmate.

**.**

“ _Let me go.”_

_Regulus had been the first to break the silence. However, Severus had kept his wand drawn, even if he doubted he’d shoot any spells._

“ _The Dark Lord ordered your death,” he had simply said._

_Regulus had stepped aside a little, his present threat hovering over him._

“ _Yes,” he had answered, “just as he had ordered the demise of a newborn! Do you really want to have any part in this, Severus?”_

“Severus?”

Severus raised his head abruptly off his porridge bowl. Dumbledore was looking at him, a bit concerned. Sometimes, Severus really hated this patronising way he had.

“Headmaster?” He responded smoothly.

“You seemed distracted… Is everything all right?”

_Oh, Regulus and his idiot of a brother are just going rogue, in Azkaban. I just can’t get it out of my head, but aside from that, everything’s fine!_

“Aside from the disappointment I’m feeling after having graded the Second Year’s homework, nothing’s wrong!”

“Ah! I see. About that… It’d seem that your marking is a bit… unkind…”

“When you’re brewing a potion, there’s no half-way! I’m asking the same rigour of my students in writing!” Severus growled coolly.

“Indeed, nevertheless, they’re still beginners… Anyhow, I think you’ll get it right with time… It’s only your first year of teaching, after all… In any case, if something is troubling you, Severus, you should know I’m willing to provide you with any support you need.”

_Would you help Regulus Black tack around his fellow Death Eaters, the very same who wish for his head, into the bleakest prison in the country?_

Severus was just in time to repress a sneer. Dumbledore had done nothing to help Sirius Black. Yet, if what Regulus had told him was true…

“Is it possible to force a man under the Truth Serum to lie?” Severus asked suddenly.

Dumbledore didn’t answer right away. But, strangely, he didn’t seem even a bit startled by his question.

“A man under the Truth Serum always tells what he thinks is the truth… But, if someone had altered his memories, his perception of reality… Well, in absolute terms, even the use of Veritaserum isn’t completely reliable…”

“We can’t know if someone is really guilty then…” Severus grumbled.

It would seem that Regulus wasn’t wrong about Sirius. But who would benefit from him being accused of Pettigrew’s murder?

“You have something specific in mind?” Dumbledore asked. Nose lowered over his porridge, Severus shook his head.

**.**

Regulus was sitting on his own bed, meditating. He hadn’t talked with Mundungus since his cellmate started reading his newspaper, and he was bored. He still didn’t trust Mundungus, but he couldn’t make an enemy of him. He needed an ally, someone who could guide him in the prison world.

And wasn’t this what Mundungus had tried to do spontaneously?

After all, he could have left him in the dark about Floyd…

“Thanks for the support,” he finally said. Mundungus didn’t say anything. Regulus sighed softly. “I’ll need a bit of time to adjust,” Regulus continued humbly, “and to lose some of my old habits… You were right, you know. Here, there is no magic, no wizards… Yesterday’s skills are worthless today…”

“Mhhhhh,” Mundungus mumbled.

“But earlier, I wasn’t thinking about magic…”

Mundungus moved on his bed and sat, legs dangling over the edge.

“Yeah?” There was an air of indifference in his tone, but Regulus knew he was curious.

“Muggles cope with it without any magic…” Regulus emphasised. 

Mundungus leapt off his bed and leaned towards him. “So, it’s true then? You really hung out with Muggles?”

“I lived with them. It was informative.”

“Meh… The boy Floyd assaulted had been helpless against him though. And you know what? We think Floyd can be blamed for another thirty attacks. Some of them even murders. The problem is that he cast the Memory Charm on the poor Muggles. The Aurors didn’t catch him for everything he’s done. Conclusion: he’s sentenced here for ten years when he should be in High Security for life…”

“And how do you know that?”

“He’s kind of a braggart…”

“Mh… I’ve noticed… “

“Listen, Finnigan… You should stay out of his way…”

“Although, it’s going to be hard, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… But the best way to do that is to get in the good graces of the guards. Then, maybe they’ll react if Floyd is harassing you. Unless… if you make sure he’ll never come after you from the start…”

Regulus pinched his lips, pensive. There was no way he was going to lay his cards on the table now. He dropped the subject. “And for the cleaning service? How does it work?”

“You send a request to the C.O responsible for the detainees’ work. He’s the one who’s going to decide if you’ll be hired in the team you've applied for. But there’s not a lot of applications for cleaning; all work and no benefit.”

“Except for getting closer to the guards. Maybe in a good way.”

“Yeah…”

Fletcher seemed sceptical. “If you want, I’ll show you who to speak to so that you can make your request.”

“Thanks.”

Fletcher went up to his bed.

Regulus seemed satisfied enough. Mundungus might still be a valuable ally, in the long run…

**.**

Who could hold such a grudge against Sirius Black for them to frame him for a crime he didn’t commit.

“ _Rather,_ ” Severus corrected himself, “ _whom except_ himself _wanted him to rot in a cell?_ ”

Severus couldn’t focus on his work. After having seen Regulus handcuffed his mind was obsessed with the very meaning of it. And even if he hated Sirius with a passion, he just needed to understand. His curiosity again… 

And what had Regulus said about Pettigrew? That he was alive? How could he know that? Had he seen him? Had he heard something along those lines? If Regulus had any leads, why hadn't he followed them to find Pettigrew and clear his brother’s name instead of taking the risk to spend the next decade in Azkaban?

He pushed back the bunch of papers he was marking and took a heavy book from his library. Since his mind was focused on the Blacks, he might as well make progress about this. Regulus had asked him for a potion to alter their appearance. He’d see what he could find.

But as he was browsing through the grimoire, he searched in a darker part of his mind, where he consigned his knowledge of the Dark Arts—how a wizard could exert his hold on another. Was an _Imperius_ strong enough to counter the effects of Veritaserum? Or should he search for memory spells? Was it Black’s will that had been enchanted or just his memories?

Disgusted, he shuddered. And that's when he noticed that he hadn’t any doubt anymore on the innocence of the man he hated the most… 

**.**

Douglas Pills, the guard who received Regulus’s request, seemed a bit surprised. In general, the guards had to requisition prisoners for the maintenance. 

He stared at the young man for some time. He looked like he was more educated and reasonable than the other prisoners he saw around here every day. After all, even if he came from a rather modest family, he had spent enough time with spoiled boys at Hogwarts to see that Fox was out of place here. His manner of speaking, his bearing… 

“Why?” He finally asked.

“I’ve been sentenced for ten years… Ten years to stare at the same walls, day in day out,” Fox said, a bit fatalistically. Anything that can get me out of this hole is welcome. And as I’ve just arrived, I presume I can’t apply for anything else…”

“Right,” the guard admitted, scratching his head pensively. “Have you had any trouble with your cellmate?”

“No. Why?”

“It’d explain why you prefer to scrub toilets rather than stay quietly in your bed, to chat… “

“No, no, I get on well with him.”

“What’s your cell number?”

“Number four.”

“With Dung? Could have been worse… An alright guy. Well then… if it means that much to you… Just one thing, though,” he added, his eyes hardening, “No messing around, understood?”

“Right. I’m not looking for trouble.”

**.**

Just before lights out, Regulus finished the short letter he’d sent to Severus the following day.

_Severus,_

_I hope you won’t miss next Saturday’s appointment. If, by then, you could do some digging on Mundungus Fletcher, you’ll do me a great favour…_

_Good luck. See you soon,_

_R.A.B_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if there are any grammatical mistakes, etc. Thanks a lot for reading!


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